


Blood of bonds

by justanotherfellowsociopathicwriter



Series: things the avengers shouldn't be [3]
Category: The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: Dark Clint Barton, Dark Tony Stark, M/M, Mental Illness, Serial Killer Tony Stark, psychopathy, serial killer Clint Barton
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-14
Updated: 2019-04-14
Packaged: 2020-01-12 23:48:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18457133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justanotherfellowsociopathicwriter/pseuds/justanotherfellowsociopathicwriter
Summary: Tony was a killer, not a good person by any means, but the world is not black and white, and sometimes instead of gray, the world turns the most brilliant horrible red.But sometimes he is provoked to kill not for himself, no matter what he says either way, but for the bonds he managed to forge with peopleAnd perhaps Clint has a similar bloody little problem...





	Blood of bonds

**Author's Note:**

  * For [0allthingsdark0](https://archiveofourown.org/users/0allthingsdark0/gifts).
  * Inspired by [The Urge](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18134174) by [0allthingsdark0](https://archiveofourown.org/users/0allthingsdark0/pseuds/0allthingsdark0). 



Everytime the urge came, Tony had killed someone he deemed to deserve it. If he needed to kill, he wasn’t going to kill someone he deemed “nice enough”, but these are the times when it became just a tad personal, when the urge started screaming in his bones like a horny preteen reacting to online porn. He knew killing was wrong, a drug he simply was never supposed to indulge in, and yet he just couldn’t stop, might as well turn that toward a cause eh?

 

At age twenty-four the urge had came for him time and time again, he killed wealthy investors at galas, gamblers in casinos, bullies, aside from his memorable first time.

He was a man who had no right to make those types of choices, and yet at the same time it seemed all too easy to justify the hundreds of deaths he had caused in just six years. The uge would come to him day after day only to disappear, luring him into a sense of normalcy before the pounding in his brain started again. Tony smiled, he feared the urge as much as he loved it, knowing it was wrong, and yet he remained unable to stop. He had tried before, at age nineteen, a man’s last words, one word, “why?” provoking him to kick killing to the curb. Yet when the urge came for him once more, he became more and more desperate, twitching, murder on his mind… walking into a shady bar to get some booze to take the edge off, then becoming static, and blacking out only to awake with blood coating the walls, dancers, partygoers, the bartender, all ripped to pieces, people on the wall in blood was a twisted momento he didn’t remember creating, not the people he cared for, but far too innocent nonetheless.Tony sighed and walked out, and for months afterward the urge didn’t come, when Rhodey came to visit after being overseas in the air force, he and Tony hit the bars of malibu, that is the first time Tony killed not for himself, but someone he cared about. 

 

“Where to honeybear?”

“tony we really should be heading back shouldn’t we”

What followed was Rhodey getting well and truly wasted,

“wassa worst thing that ever happened to ya tony” he slurred, to his credit he had had like WAY to much liquor at the goading of Tony fucking Stark 

“what’s life if you don’t live on the edge Rhodey?” Tony said, holding his liquor much better, though in all fairness he did have more experience. “One time when we were at MIT, some racist asshole cut me up, remember, I went to the hospital for “falling down the stairs, bullshit” said he was gonna cut my fucking heart out man, fucking asshole!” 

Tony’s eyes widened, his hand beginning to twitch as he struggled to count to ten.

“Some blond guy, green eyes, started kicking me and right before I passed out, police never found him… assholes, at, like that old locker room on campus...” “listen, Rhodey, think it may be time for you to go home, ok?” Shoving him into a taxi, paying off the driver. Walking into an alley, he shot a mugger in the face, only for the burning to continue. As it started to pull more and more of his mind away, he realized what he had to do, his mind clearing briefly for him to pull out his phone and, hacking into the security footage of MIT, find the clip he was looking for, finding the man that had hurt one of HIS people, knowing, knowing how wrong it was, how sick he was thinking these thoughts, but he needed, NEEDED to kill that people.

  
  


Counting as he often subconsciously did as he slowly lost himself to the urge. Numbers flared in his head as he went through the _ process.  _

The burn remained, something that he so often wanted to ignore, but could never ignore, nor get rid of. He turned into something he never wanted to become once again, as he did the only thing he could manage, his eye twitching as he struggled not to ponce on his then PA as he headed down to the lab. 

“Urgh, what's up with him?” his PA, who would likely quit within the week, wondered aloud, “It seems that sir has a...matter… to take care of tonight.” JARVIS stated from overhead.

 

Looking at his substantial criminal record, The person that was not quite tony at the moment, or rather tony, but not quite a person at the moment, grinned “sorry not sorry” As if he was referring to getting back at the man who had taken his bagel that morning, instead of planning the murder

Of said unfortunate soul.”

 

1 getting his name and address, Michael Hoffman, living in an apartment on 304 valencia st that his parents had purchased. 

 

2 walking into an apartment complex with rather poor security, as this was a rather “safe” neighborhood, in a town, about an hour away from Malibu by car, populated by “self-made” kids being backed up by their parents. 

 

3 walking up the stairs, seventeen, a spring in his step that should have been cheery but instead somehow made any sane person want to bolt, coupled with the sick grin on his face that he simply could not wipe away but you seem to KNOW that something is wrong 

 

4 knocking on the door, the loud taps in rapid succession made with the hilt of his knife, grasping the blade as blood dripped down in wrist in some mockery of foreplay. His black suit jacket ripped off and lying on the floor.

 

5 pouncing on the man who answered, knowing that he had the right guy, he couldn’t be wrong, had he been faster he would have done some sort of preparation, but the overpowering static in his brain ruled out anything resembling rational thought.

 

6 flipping the knife, his blood staining his white undershirt, his tie mirroring the stunning scarlet the dotted, the man, the walls as the stabbed him rapidly in the chest and legs

 

7 licking his lips as time seemed to slow, his movements remaining rapid and desperate, fast, shivering as he felt the release of euphoria that so often came 

 

8 forcing the man’s gaze onto his as he sliced open his chest, ripping apart veins, the man being so far gone that he had no option but to die, even if he was to be rolled into the hospital at that very moment, it was a miracle that he was even still conscious

 

9 reaching in and wrapping his hands around the man's heart, feeling the beat, smiling jauntily, most of his teeth in clear view of the dying man, as he watched the person in question gurgle out a word, a single word “please” Tony knew the dying words of someone in crisis, they were rarely noble in the mouths of people he chose to kill, though he doubted they where any different no matter how “good” you where.

 

10, he squeezed, the heart that had already been beating rapidly imploded, and Tony, watching the man's eyes become devoid of panicked light, feeling more satisfied than he had in a long time. “Sorry, can’t do that for you”

 

As he came too, he retrieved his suit jacket, and after washing his hands as if they weren’t covered in another’s blood, and drove home, blasting ACDC with the sun beginning to rise as he returned to his lab. “Welcome back sir,” the meaning could be taken in many ways, most of them being borderline disturbing in their situation.

 

JARVIS knew, he knew everything that tony did, and yet tony was someone he viewed as a father, he kept watch over sir, and after afghanistan and sir becoming Iron Man, hoped that it was over, til the Urge came again at the penthouse bar in Manhattan. Yet JARVIS never told, after all, he was Tony stark's right hand man, and that would never change.

 

Tony hadn’t killed since he essentially did a major murder orgy in afghanistan, not his largest, but he hadn’t been in the mood AT ALL, the first time he committed a fully conscious mass murder was the glorious and horrific, and after Tony hadn’t felt the urge for a long time, with the avengers he only saw more violence, although it was typically beating the shit out of aliens, it was still a relief to do when he felt the warning signs of warning signs that the urge was coming. 

Until that fateful night at the bar, he still kept his hit list under every firewall under the sun, and yet he once again searched it for a nearby target before finding a sleazy politician and… satisfying himself, so to speak.

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Tony liked bruce, they spoke the same language, and him and the hulk had an understanding of sorts with the whole tony killing people and hulk smashing people, he convinced bruce that he wasn’t a monster, for his was out for all to see, unlike his.

 

He had always known to an extent what happened with the military, and yet at that point, was proud of the fact that he was no longer a killer. Yet when Bruce awoke screaming about a man named general ross,(long after the killing of that one politician whose name he couldn’t remember, after that rather disappointing revelation at the bar , it seemed that his urge just couldn’t be killed) his hand began to shake, crushing the circuit he had been working on; His veins bulged out of his neck.

 

After quickly comforting Bruce and helping him back to his room in the tower, he found ross’s government profile, reining himself in just a tad, he wanted this to last, to savor it, the death of rhodey’s attacker had felt so good, and perhaps selfishly he wanted that feeling again.   

Arranging for a meeting with the general at a hotel on the premises of the hulk, he arrived to the suite and saw the older man standing there “I want the monster on your team, and perhaps that captain fella and the two killers, they ain’t worthy of being heroes, Mr Stark you made good weapons, but you are going to meet my demands and I ain’t gonna leave until I get them!”

 

“You aren’t getting bruce, or any of the avengers my good general,” “someone has to put that monster down!” “oh really Mr Ross sir, calling Hulk a monster, I fear you are gravely mistaken” “your entire team is a gang of monsters, and you are only anything above cause of your damn weapons, with all of your flaws your not a fucking killer, or some chemical-miracle!” Tony’s eyes glinted as he pulled out a wide array of surgical tools, his back turned as a mad grin began to surface,

 

“my team are not the ones you need to worry about, I’m afraid I’ve killed more than all of them, sadly, whether directly or indirectly, though if you want a sum of direct killings I believe I recently hit ten thousand,” taking his time, tony dragged the man apart, “you won’t have to worry about leaving the room til you get you demands Mr Ross,I’ve killed organizations, ten rings had no survivors, and that was a smaller organization that I  _ took apart _ , quite literally though it was indeed awfully quick with them, as well as singular men and woman, many of them far stronger than an old, soft, ‘army general’ ” 

 

The seasoned murderer began to work with all of the finesse of his mechanical work. when he finally died, most of him was in pieces across the floor, his screams as Tony stood overlooking the city of New York as he bled out on the floor, stepping on the torn and bloody chest as he strolled to the window. 

 

“ I value my team members, you are not coming near my people, in fact I believe all of them are far more worthy of being heroes than I am, none of them killed for themselves after all, and look, even now, despite my urges, I’m still seen as a hero!” a cutting laugh split the air “that, general ross, is why you are going to die, you would have died anyway, you were pretty high on my list” pulling out a flask and taking an exaggerated sip before pouring just a tad onto Ross’s raw and bleeding face, “what you did to bruce simply made it far more satisfying…”

Numbers flashed in his head as he dealt the irreversible blow, a knife to the gut.

1

2

3

4

5

6

7

8

9

 

“Hey, bruce, remember that ross guy you told me about?” Tony asked, a grin on his face, hidden by the car engine he was working on, “yes, what about him?” Bruce fearfully asked, assuming the worst, “turn on the news…looks like someone had it out for him” As Bruce flipped on the TV, he heard the headline ‘scandalous general Ross was discovered at an undisclosed hotel suite, identified by DNA tested by the police, being too mutilated to discover his identity conventionally, his estranged daughter, his only remaining relative, was contacted only to say that he ‘probably had it coming’ known for being on trial for crimes against humanity as well as conspiracy only for the charges to be mysteriously dropped, multiple instances of corruption were discovered as well as using government services against legally free man who is now a member of the avengers project-a group of extraordinary people defending earth from the supernatural under SHIELD and the UN. Bruce Banner, celebrated scientist working with Tony stark at SI in clean energy and medical research with his ample knowledge on gamma radiation.” “someone must have had it out for him, met with him a few times when I worked in the weapons biz, no surprise really, what he did to you really sucked, but hey, he’s not going to hurt anyone again isn’t he?” “He really is gone isn’t he, I don’t have to worry about it anymore” Bruce said, almost in shock, “you don’t bruce, you always have a place here, and the best people are the ones with monsters that everyone can see” Tony lamented, rubbing circles into his science bro’s back. 

 

**10**

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Natasha truly interested Tony, a woman with a body count nearly as high as his. After Afghanistan, when he began dying, he didn’t really care persay, the most annoying part was his life falling to pieces around him. Yet he was still proud of the urge staying away, his hands remained clean of well  _ fresh  _ blood and that was something of an improvement. He checked the records, then checked government records, Natalie, Natasha, Natalia, either way, a lying liar who lies, a victim of the red room, he knew the red room, had killed many of their instigators. A killer, and though in different ways, neither of them wanted to kill. This couldn’t end well, but why not play along in SHIELD’s little game… then he didn’t die, and he wasn’t grateful, but he didn’t particularly mind either, life and death held a certain indifference for him. 

 

NAtasha had written that simply hilarious report, god he hacked into SHIELD and read the damn thing with Rhodey all the time. Rhodey because he was under the impression that TOny was a good man, and Tony because he knew he shouldn’t be on a team of heroes, and yet this fellow killer and trained spy had gotten that much misinformation. He hated himself, and it was justified, he was a fucking serial killer after all… 

 

Then loki-crazy bag of cats- had invaded, 87 people in two days, even to him, that truly was impressive, “no that is wrong, very very wrong” since his urges had stopped from afghanistan onward he had attempted to keep his more morbid thought underwraps. What was he without the suit? He was indeed not a hero, damn, “genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist” and yet, 

Without the suit, he really was nothing but a killer. 

 

Loki had brought that up, he didn’t say anything when loki said “why play hero when you know what you truly like deep down” eyes shining feverish blue, “I’m not that person anymore….” “so be it, soon you won’t be anything at all” tapping the spear against the arc reactor, it really should have worked, but his heart was far too twisted, his mind shining to create just as many shadows.

Falling into that wormhole, a nuke on his back, when the hulk woke him up and he still wasn’t a killer, still just tony, both a curse and a blessing. As the avengers fell into a sickeningly domestic dynamic, Natalie, Natasha, Natalia became Nat, and Anthony Edward Stark became Tony. Even after his Urge returned, him continuing to keep it far far away from his life and people. In most cases at least, Bruce and Rhodey being two notable examples.

 

Nat and tony would often meet on the couch, watch a cheesy movie, do each other’s nails, and of course had all of the booze. They were actually rather similar once they stripped the masks, and with her  _ thing  _ with the hulk it was all too possible for her too know of the Urge, and he knew everyone’s stories, as he hacked into SHIELD on a twice daily basis. With all he knew it was possible for her to have an urge of her own, or perhaps that was just wishful thinking. The two told each other nothing, and gathered far too much information anyway, this is why, when they were just getting boozed up, natasha, who had been oddly strait-laced, and not in her typical ‘touch me and you die’ manner. 

 

The spy soon began to confess after getting thoroughly drunk, there was a doctor at the red room, this doctor would always attack us, torture us as very small children, every year he would take a member of the _ class _ and take them into a room, anyone who went into the room would never be the same…. He took me into the room, and tortured me laughing and laughing, this is the anniversary of that night, and that was the night I escaped from the red room. Patting Natasha on the back, this was not the first accidental confession, he often got drunk and talked about howard and stane. Natasha wasn’t a damsel in distress, but this-this was for him. When Natasha fell asleep on the counter, tony began to hunt down this doctor. 

 

Ivan Petrov, now a clinical doctor, a wife and three children. 

Telling everyone in the tower that he was going on a business trip, and telling those at SI that he was going on a PR trip for the avengers, he packed nothing but his  _ instruments _ . The urge burned in his gut, it burned  **it fucking burned.** But he waited, walking into the house however, he saw nothing but an immaculately kept living room, smelling overpowering bleach. That would have struck him as rather strange had he not been completely out of his mind, dead set on the doctor. 

 

Searching the house only to burst into a slightly smaller room, where his  _ target _ stood holding an already bloody knife. At this point Tony was once again the living embodiment of static, and while it was clear that the doctor was far more precise in his attacks, Tony was out of his mind, and simply went unfazed by the blows the other man managed to deal, despite this, it was clear that both held a sort of hunger as they fought. When Tony finally managed to pin the man down, something seemed to clear in the doctor’s eyes “I got a taste for it in the red room, never imagined I’d meet a monster like me, apologies  _ merchant of death. _ ” the old moniker and fresh blood seemed to daze Tony as he watched the man die in front of him, only then seeing the frightened child huddled in the corner, the young boy looked up to see the bloodied man standing before him “кровавый ангел” (bloody angel) Tony paused, satiated once more, and turned to the boy, now looking at the man who had killed his abuser in awe “Я ни в коем случае не ангел,но я кровавый” (I am by no means an angel, but I am bloody) giving the boy a cutting grin, Tony began his trek, and exiting into an alleyway, was enveloped by armor. That night was never uttered of in the household, the case went cold, and a little boy was left staring out his window, watching a metallic man flying away, a naive child, who still saw the world in black and white once again muttered “кровавый ангел” as the figure flew off into the night.

-

“I keep tabs tony, on those from the red room, and right after I tell you about a man who tortured me as a child, the very same man is found dead on the floor.” Natasha said, stoic and professional, “I feel attacked here, I was on a tour for SI, and besides, I’m Tony Stark! You think I have the guts to pull off a murder, much less not get caught!” Tony said, a jaunty grin on his face. “Don’t give me that bullshit stark, I know what you’re capable of, that personality report was a trolling of the incompetent assholes at SHIELD and I don’t trust you, but thank you, somehow” two killers sat side by side, one with a web spanning the globe just waiting to snatch you up, and the other who would tinker along till he used his work to stab you in the gut.

They sat in silence, til the next morning, and with Tony snarking along and Natasha being both feared and underestimated, both being trusted unwaveringly, neither told, nor spoke of the red that decorated their ledgers. _ Not now, not ever, no matter whatever. _

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Some villain of the week took Thor, somehow, no one really knew how, and apparently said villain convinced himself that he was the initiator of ragnarok, which had already happened according to Thor. Unfortunately, he had decided to sacrifice Thor on Friday the thirteenth, just another week for the avengers, issue was, SHIELD had no idea how to find the perpetrator, and TOny had been feeling that little not so nice urge lately. Rather shitty for the asshole of the day, and it was unknown whether or not he could actually KILL Thor. 

 

So what the hell right, hacking into the electronic  _ electronic  _ message the dumbass had sent to the avengers, and proceeded to storm the place, a gun in holster and two long serrated blades in hand, a neat black mask pulled over his lower face, dark brown hair whipping through his hair as he slowly made his way up the norwegian mountain the dick had picked for his base, a nordic drinking hall lying at the top, with two neat jabs, the duo guarding the doors lie bleeding out at the entrance, the cameras having been disabled before he arrived at the door. Taking the dead man's keys and unlocking the door before strolling in and proceeding to kill all of them, his mask hiding a wide grin, prancing about as he stabbed henchman after henchman, with the occasional broken neck. Reaching the tower where the final boss sat, in an honest to god THRONE and wearing a fur lined cape, the look of terror on his face was practically hilarious as the man begged for his life, offering his already slaughtered troops in response before Tony slowly enacted a rather gruesome, rather satisfying execution. The blood eagle,” tony muttered as he carefully carved out the man’s ribs and skin “was practiced by the nords you are so fond of appropriating, the cape you wear, lined with red and white fur, is not nordic in any sense, for that, you get a nordic punishment” grinning as he admired his gruesome handiwork, Tony felt the stirring of his conscience begin to arise, falling to his knees and holding his head as the dead man was strung on the truly grand stained glass behind him, his body forming a perfect blood eagle, a nordic end, but not one for the king he never would have been.

 

Cleaning up, or rather shoving the bodies in an abandoned storage tank, Tony fetched a rather bored Thor “ONE MUST POSSESS IMMENSE STRENGTH TO OVERCOME SUCH FORCES MAN OF IRON, THANK YOU FOR THE ASSISTANCE WHILE I WAS IN DIRE NEED” Tony sat piloting the quinjet, his mask still bloody from where it lie around his neck “no problem big guy” his mellowed tone didn’t quite match the mad grin on his face, not quite at all, but he was always more of a voice actor…

 

“It was something I needed to do at the time that the situation provided.”

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Steve never sought out conflict, even in battle he spent most of his time getting civilians evacuated,but not so long ago he sought out tony just as his hand had begun to twitch and his veins began to pop out. 

 

“Tony, I need your help, I found out that bucky is alive, and out there, but he’s been captured by HYDRA, and SHIELD barred me from going, I would, but without backup there is no way I could get him out, and I would probably have to hang up the old shield. I know I’ve given you crap for not following orders, but anything you could do to bring him back…” Steve looked like a wreck, and obviously haven’t been sleeping, which contrary to popular belief, hit a supersoldier like a truck. “No problem America the Beautiful,” the charming grin hid the fact that he was inwardly rejoicing “I’d be happy to help you out…” after doing his research, Tony geared up, donning a sleek black mask as he did so, before using another quinjet to fly into the HYDRA base hidden in a scottish mountainside.

 

Arriving after about an hour, Tony walked toward the HYDRA bunker, a rather suicidal move, but he didn’t really mind death and always got up close and personal. Pulling out a self made machine gun and a cute little dagger, “showtime!” he muttered, shooting the single guard lurking in front of the bunker type entrance before overriding the little panel to type in passcodes, the man, true to his colors, muttering hail HYDRA as he died, Tony scoffed and rolled his eyes, this was the last base the fuckers had other than the assholes he had been picking through in SHIELD. 

 

The winter soldier project, he had done his research, howard, he didn’t care about, and he may have been a tad upset for his mother, had he found out in another, more betrayal type situation he would have flipped his shit, but at that point, he logically couldn’t blame Barnes, besides, who was he to whine about the death of a mother who didn’t give a fuck and a father who ripped into him with words and knives, beating him and throwing him away after he made weapon after weapon.  _ DADDY ISSUES!  _ A voice yelled out, it was probably the more… acceptable… Tony Stark, as he knew that the person he was wasn’t really functional.

 

A smile remained hidden by his mask as he stabbed and shot his way through hundreds of agents, for a terrorist organization, rather small, for one to kill, quite a lot… At last he ended up facing the winter soldier, who sat in his cell, looking more like a rag doll than a person. Picking up a journal that he had pried out of the dead mans of one random murdered HYDRA asshole no. 273 of the day. “Ok buddy, sorry to do this but  Longing, rusted, furnace, daybreak, seventeen, benign, nine, homecoming, one, freight car, “ the winter soldier stood up, “ready to comply” Tony looked mildly disgusted, “egh, anyway, once we leave, you are not to discuss what you see walking out, and after that, your free to go!” the winter soldier nodded, but after they walked through the bloody scene, it was clear that Bucky Barnes was back, “hey Buck, your back now you know!” Tony called as Bucky began to wake up from mental suppression “I-I’m bucky right” he said, pointing at himself blearily. “You are, nasty HYDRA, your probably going to end up joining the avengers, and making out with steve, man the media is going to have a fucking fit!” Bucky sat up “Steve! What year is it anyway!” Tony chuckled, waking up from a mental suppression of a very different kind, his too sharp smile still adorning his face. “Knew it! 2019, instead of getting hijacked by HYDRA assholes, he got to become a popsicle!” Bucky nodded before promptly passing out.

 

Seeing the reunion, as well as Captain America, who was practically the modern symbol of chastity, grasp his long thought dead boyfriends buttocks, was almost as satisfying as the murder orgy he had just gotten, his mind finally stopping it with the persistent staticy need.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

At this point Tony had long since discovered that killing someone FOR someone was that much more satisfying, so why not rid the world of someone  _ rather _ similar to him. A killer who killed mostly killers and sometimes abusers and rarely just assholes. Rather counterproductive, but roll with it ok? 

 

When Tony was in the right mind, him and clint were very much the same, two solid chaotic neutral-neutrally both debatably good and bad- men that dealt with that by running from medical and conducting ridiculously complex plans involving tony inventing crazy shit and clint firing various things from the vents. This meant CRAZY shit aka almost everything that could be found in a joke shop owned by fred and george weasley and then some, and to clarify, Clint was almost always aided and abetted by tony providing him with crazy ammunition-he never missed. 

 

The pranking buddies, who apparently lived to ‘drive coulson and fury insane via paperwork and ridiculous incidents’ and where both a deep shade darker than they let on. The friendship they forged was a strong one, and it was so much like their oddly similar upbringings. Both had grown up surrounded by hazardous objects, with a far too harsh father figure, and both used humor to cope after getting their big break, whether that be a government agency or becoming a prodigal student. Clint and Tony, both suspected the other of the urge, and yet Clint was always able to wait, the static would ring in his ears, and still he would wait till he could make the right call. Clint would bide his time, but Tony, Tony was a tad more upfront, and at the same time, his urge was stronger, overpowering, and he always killed those on the opposition, it wasn’t right, but Clint  **understood** . While the superspy twins would discuss this in hushed tones, it was always taken care of in silence.

 

The day had began normally, breakfast, shitty super villain of the week, mandatory check in with Fury, and Tony saw Clint twitching, glancing at the agents walking through the hallway, he knew the feeling, the itching  **need** to take a life. Clint’s record was nearly spotless, apart from his brothers murder that practically copied that of one Claire Westscott if you excluded the sex that no one but Tony knew of. Just as his was, though Clints killings were almost always labeled as mission fatalities, if not the very basis of the mission. Tony admired Clint’s resolve, and yet he knew that this time Clint had waited far too long, and soon his life would come crashing down.

 

Time seemed to slow, spotting an agent that glared at Barton through the door, a quiet growl escaped the sniper’s throat. Slipping out with a quip to match, Tony booked it to the bathroom, and pulling up his trademark holographic screens, hacked into the guys records and emails. “HYDRA, of course, always the judgemental bastards” smirking, he followed the agent, the security cams long since being disabled, restraining him and having VERONICA pick him up and deposit the crooked agent on the floor of his pranking and murder buddy. Scribbling a note onto a post-it and smacking it onto the rather unlucky agent’s back.

 

A static-y Clint managed to get to the tower with a bit of cover-up from Tony, literally static-y, his mind falling down the rabbit hole that they both resented. Stalking into his room and punching a wall, not caring as his hand began to bleed. Stumbling into his bedroom only to see the man tied up in front of him, grinning, clint picked up an arrow and stabbed the man over and over, before the shaft broke off and the man lie dead on the floor. Clint picked up the note that was now splattered with blood ‘thought you might need a pick me up ;), no worries, he’s HYDRA’ Clint gave a smirk, he fucking knew it! Turning around to see Tony standing in the hall, “better?” Tony questioned, “maybe” was clint’s swift reply a smile on his face as he turned around and they both stood back to back, eventually coming to feel the other man’s back on his own. Clint pulled the genius in for what seemed to be a near hungry kiss, they continued to make out until they both panted for breath and quickly stripped, both feeling the heat of the other. The next day there would be catcalls, but at the same time they knew that it was just as right for them as feeling blood wash over each other’s hands, often enough, they went together. 

 

It was wrong, and the reason they killed was worse, but at least they killed the ‘bad guys’ in the end. That is how many ended up lying dead, and how two of the most similar avengers hooked up and became a ridiculously cute couple. 

 

Hearts do bleed red after all… 

  
  
  



End file.
